


Spring on Jupiter

by orphan_account



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 06:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21333580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Macy is sleep deprived. She is struggling with her emotions, desperate, and spiralling out of control. But Harry is her anchor.
Relationships: Dark!Harry & Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60





	Spring on Jupiter

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Bobby Womack's 'Fly Me To The Moon'.

Macy was in the convenience store for the second time that evening. She had thrown the pond water, masquerading as coffee, down the kitchen sink before returning to stare at the over-the-counter medication.

Her hand shook as she reached for a packet of NoDoz. Behind her the bored clerk picked at his nails. The CCTV feed above his head showed how badly she was failing at appearing nonchalant. In her dark Safe Space hoody, and so late at night, she could be mistaken for a common delinquent.

She shifted uneasy from foot to foot and knocked over a cold and flu display. Maybe she should take these pills instead? If they contained pseudoephedrine she was on her way to cooking meth, which as a stimulant would help her stay awake. Which was illegal, but got Walter White an Emmy.

She was raving and she knew it. Reason had long vanished under the thick cloud of sleep deprivation.

_Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. And repeat. _

When she settled, she paid for the caffeine pills, hands still shaking, added a packet of mints for good measure, and went home.

...

From her bedroom window Macy watched the streetlights flicker. She had been up for a long time but daybreak was still hours away. Her body felt torn between confusing extremes; alternately overexcited and jumpy, then hollowed out and filled with sawdust. To boot, the caffeine pills gave her palpitations.

She felt like she was dying. More than once she had to stop from calling out to Harry. In her current state, she didn’t know what she’d do if she saw him. Her circumstances were greatly reduced. There was a very real possibility she might say, “The logical course of action is for us to sleep together. So the assassin has no leverage. Preemptive sex, if you will.”

Could she self-immolate with her demon power?

Macy paced the room.

She passed her phone and headphones three times before she picked them up and hit shuffle. She hoped for the terrible EDM she sometimes listened to on runs. Instead, Bobby Womack asked to be flown to the moon.

To her delirious mind, the upbeat ballad sounded melancholy, like a lament. All she hoped to avoid came at her at once. The soft play of his words against her lips. The way his eye's burned darkly. How he always denied her.

She couldn't catch her breath. When she thought of him she became undone, like her feelings were too big for her body. She never wanted anything so bad. Every time she reached out to close the gap between them, he stopped her.

At first, she didn't understand he did this on purpose. She didn't know why the dreams ended when they did. She simply assumed some primitive instinct for self-preservation kicked in and saved her. But she couldn't lie to herself. It was the animal in her that wanted him. She knew how easily, given the chance, she would surrender.

He woke her up. He was playing with her.

Macy wanted to scream like Womack did at the end of the song. Where did he get off acting like that? With his hair all mussed up and dressed like a cowboy Mr. Grey? And his stupid voice. The one that revealed the murky depths of her desire.

Not sleeping was the only power she had. She avoided him because she did not trust who she became in her dreams. 

...

Her chest ached. The mints had eroded a hole through her esophagus, she was sure of it. Should she have eaten them on an empty stomach? Was this heartburn or a heart attack?

"Macy?" 

She looked about her wildly, knocked her headphones off, and pinched the inside of her wrist.

"Macy, it's me," Harry said from behind the closed door. 

She walked over and pressed her back against it.

Her voice was too elevated, too contrived when she replied, "Oh Harry. Hi. Hey. What's up?"

Only one of those responses would have sufficed. If she was trying to hide the fact she was having a nervous breakdown, she failed.

"Macy what's wrong? Can I come in?" he said.

The concern in his voice made tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She was tired, emotionally unhinge, sexually frustrated, and her room looked like a small hurricane had passed through. It was an occupational hazard to let Harry in.

"No. I'm not my best self," she replied honestly. 

There was a long pause and then, "Ok Macy. I'm going to stay right here."

Macy cried. All night she had felt so out of control. Like her body was no longer hers. That cowboy Mr. Grey took her feelings, those secret things she kept to herself, and used them to wound her.

But Harry. Good, wonderful Harry. He reminded her what it was like to be heard. He was her safe place, she thought, and laughed as she looked down at her stupid hoody and wiped her nose.

"I'm not crying by the way. I'm reacting to a possible mixed overdose from caffeine and _mentha spicata_."

"Spearmint? Shall I send for the ambulance?" he replied and she laughed some more. She could feel the smile in his voice.

For a while neither of them spoke. Her head lolled back against the door and she closed her eyes. She wondered how he found going to the astral plane with Mel. Did they really jump off the roof? Surely there were less melodramatic ways to solve the riddle. Was he currently wearing the fluffy pink slippers Maggie gave him, the ones he insisted he could make "rather dapper with access to a proper haberdashery". She smiled into the silence of her room. Macy knew if she could stay like this forever she would be all right.

But she had to be brave. For Mel and Maggie and Harry. For all the vulnerable witches out there depending on the Charmed Ones. She couldn't keel over and die of exhaustion now.

She was half witch, half demon, and a hundred percent badass.

Macy Vaughn. PhD.

"Harry, I'm going to try and sleep now," she said.

He asked if he should stay but she insisted she was OK. She couldn't have him sitting outside her door and getting cramps. She had to do this alone. She heard him hesitate but then with a soft goodbye, and assurance that he would be just down the hallway, he was gone.

...

That night Macy dreamed of spring on Jupiter.

With him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because someone needs to give Macy a pillow and a hug. Poor thing! 


End file.
